


look at the stars (look how they shine for you).

by lordvoldyfarts



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordvoldyfarts/pseuds/lordvoldyfarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shouldn't be here. She knows that.</p>
<p>She knows that if anybody looked over their shoulder they would spot a girl, dark-haired and slight amongst the bushes, clutching a bouquet of daisies, lurking.</p>
<p>But she had to come.</p>
<p>She had to...had to see her one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	look at the stars (look how they shine for you).

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry bout this. I really am. Characters are not mine. The pain and suffering unfortunately is.

She shouldn't be here. She knows that.

She knows that if anybody looked over their shoulder they would spot a girl, dark-haired and slight amongst the bushes, clutching a bouquet of daisies, lurking.

But she had to come.

She had to...had to see her one last time.

* * *

It had been a few short days after their graduation from Silas. Move-out day to be exact. Laura was leaving but Carmilla had a few extra days to hang around. Perks of being the daughter of the Dean.

Carmilla could tell Laura was stalling. Her things had been packed for weeks and her dad was waiting by their rented car for her. But Laura was hovering near the desk where her laptop always sat. Every few seconds her eyes would flit up to gaze at Carmilla and then flit back down. Carmilla herself was sitting on the bed, chipping off the last of her nail polish and doing anything to avoid meeting Laura's eyes.

Laura makes an audible sigh and she turns to Carmilla. "Any chance you've changed your mind?" She asks, with only a trace of hope woven in her resigned tone. Carmilla shakes her head, eyes still trained downward.

"No." She doesn't apologize. She's done more than enough of that in the past few weeks. Laura lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Can you at least look at me, Carm? Or are you scared that if you do you'll realize what a colossal mistake you're making and change your mind?" Carmilla bit her tongue. This is for the best, she thinks to herself, as she raises her eyes to meet Laura's.

"I'm not going to change my mind. We've rehashed this over and over again, Laura. I'm standing by my decision because I know that it's the right one. For both of us." She tries to add an air of finality to her voice and she hopes that she sounds stronger than she feels.

There's silence for a moment and then Laura is sitting next her and resting one hand on her thigh. "I love you, Carmilla. Why can't that be enough for you?" She whispers, just loud enough for her to hear. Carmilla closes her eyes tightly. She shifts away from Laura's hand and stands, looking down at her.

"Damn it, Laura! Don't you think if love were enough I wouldn't be forcing you to walk away?" She pauses and tries to calm herself down. She closes her eyes and counts to three. "This isn’t easy for me either. I hate this. I hate that in a few minutes I have to watch you walk away from me and that I can’t chase you. But this is how it has to be. We’re not meant to be together. Not in this lifetime.” Her voice is cracking and she knows that at any moment there’s going to be tears spilling down her cheeks but she can’t let Laura see her like that.  So she blinks back the tears while she looks at Laura, whose head is down and her chin is quivering. She stands up and puts a hand against Carmilla’s cheek. She rubs her cheekbone softly with her thumb. She leans up and gives Carmilla a chaste kiss against her mouth.

“I love you right now. I loved you yesterday. I’ll love you tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I promise I’m going to love you every single day for the rest of my life Carmilla Karnstein.” She says. Carmilla opens her mouth to speak but Laura shakes her head. “Don’t. If you say anything, I’m going to get my Dad up here to superglue me to your side because I won’t want to leave you.” Her voice is cracking and it breaks Carmilla’s heart to hear. So Carmilla just nods. Laura steps away from her and draws her hand back to her side. Carmilla feels the cold of the absence immediately. Tears are flowing freely down Laura’s cheeks and it takes every ounce of willpower Carmilla has not to reach over and brush them off. Laura walks back over to her bed and picks up the last bag. Her hands are shaking. Carmilla can see them from across the room. She flings the bag over her shoulder and takes a few steps toward the doorway. Carmilla only watches her retreat. Laura pauses, turning back for one more moment.

“Last chance.” She says almost wistfully. Carmilla bites down on her lip and shakes her head. She clenches her fists at her side and closes her eyes. She wants to run up to her and say “I take it all back. I love you and you love me and this time that’s enough” but she can’t. So she stays put. She opens her eyes in time to see Laura nod and turn around. She starts to walk and this time she doesn’t turn back.

Carmilla doesn’t know how long she stands there, feet glued to their spot. She keeps watching the doorway, part of her hoping that Laura will come running back through it and ask her just one more time if she’s changed her mind. Carmilla is sure that this time her answer would be yes.

But she doesn’t and by the time the sun sets, Carmilla’s legs are exhausted and she has to sit. She takes a seat the desk, pulling open the drawer closest to the ground. Out of it she pulls a picture from last summer. Laura is grinning brightly at the camera, her hair shining underneath the sunlight. She’s wearing a sundress that Carmilla bought her for her birthday and she looks stunning. Carmilla recalls, on that day, telling her that she’s never seen her look more gorgeous. Carmilla is next to her, her arm wrapped around Laura’s waist holding her tightly and instead of looking at the camera, Carmilla is gazing down at Laura. There is a contented smile on her face and hearts in her eyes. It’s the happiest she can ever remember being.

Carmilla squeezes her eyes shut, a tear falling from her eye and down onto the picture. Carmilla doesn’t try to wipe it away. She just brushes a thumb across Laura’s face. “I love you right now. I loved you yesterday. I’ll love you tomorrow and every tomorrow after that.” She echoes Laura’s goodbye, her head falling. “And that’s the problem. I have too many tomorrows.” She whispers. Carefully, she takes the picture out of the frame and folds it up so it’s small enough to fit in her pocket. She leaves the frame on the desk and picks up the bag that she hastily packed. She walks toward the doorway and rushes out without a second glance, not being able to be alone in the room whose air feels heavy and suffocating now that she’s the only one breathing in it.

* * *

It had been close to 70 years since then and still when Carmilla thinks of it, she feels that suffocating air around her, constricting her chest and making it impossible to breathe.

If she closes her eyes and focuses hard enough, she can still feel the ghost of the kiss Laura left on her lips before she walked out for the final time. Her heart aches when she thinks of it so she tries not to but on her worst days, the days she feels the loss of Laura more intensely than ever, she allows the memory to destroy her.

It had always been a comfort to her that somewhere out there, Laura was living a life.

A life that Carmilla would _not_ have been able to give her. So no matter how much of her ached for Laura, there was always a part of her that was placated and at ease, knowing that the choice she had made all those years ago at Silas was the right one.

Now that’s gone.

It can no longer be a comfort to Carmilla that Laura is living like normal human being, progressing through their life, getting married, having children, _aging_.

Because now, Laura and Carmilla are in the same boat. Neither of them will age a day ever again.

Except Laura is _dead_ and Carmilla is still here on cursed earth without even the comfort of the thought of the love of her many lives existing out there somewhere.

Carmilla knew this day would come eventually. Human lives expire every day. They have a time limit, unlike her own. This day was the reason Carmilla forced Laura out of her life all of those years ago.

It hadn’t occurred to her at the time that this day would still crush her.

Carmilla skips the church service. She arrives at the burial site before the funeral procession arrives. The headstone is already in place and Carmilla crouches down next to it. She traces the letters of her name etched into the stone. Her chin is quivering and she has half a mind to jump into the empty grave because a world without Laura was a world she didn’t want to live in anymore. She bows her head as a tear trickles down her cheek, landing on the grass next to the stone. 92. Laura lived to be 92.

Carmilla doesn’t know a whole lot about what Laura’s life post-Silas was like. She’s thought about it, fantasized about it even, but she’s always stopped herself every time she’s gotten too curious. She’s always kept her distance even though some days she swears the curiosity could kill her. She hopes that Laura was happy. She hopes that Laura moved on. She hopes that Laura found someone else who lit her smile up like a candle doused in gasoline. She hopes that Laura _didn’t_ spend her whole life loving her like she promised.

She hopes that Laura spent every day smiling like she did in the photograph Carmilla still keeps in her pocket.

She reaches down toward her pocket where she feels the familiar bump. She pulls the photograph out of her pocket and unfolds it. The picture is wrinkled and torn around the edges from the amount of times Carmilla unfolded and refolded it. She drags her fingers over Laura’s face. Her youthful, beautiful, bright face. She closes her eyes and lets herself be transported back to that moment, that summer. That happy place. The only time, despite being an immortal being, that she ever felt invincible.

* * *

The offer is extended as soon as the words, “I was just planning on staying here over break” are uttered.

Laura is looking at her with those wide, excited eyes that are gleaming under the bright light of the sun and it doesn’t take Carmilla more than 5 seconds to agree. Anything to keep that look in her eyes.

She leaps up, clapping her hands in joy, and throws her arms around Carmilla’s neck. She hugs her tightly and Carmilla snakes her arm around her back, burying her head in the crook of Laura’s shoulder, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair. Laura pulls her head off of Carmilla’s shoulder and connects their foreheads. “We’re going to have the best time. I have a pool and then there’s the summer carnival, where you can eat as much chocolate as you can handle _for free_ and gosh Carm, you’re going to love it.” She says almost all in one breath. Carmilla can’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. She leans in and kisses Laura quickly on the mouth.

“I love anything I do with you, buttercup.” Carmilla replies.

And that’s the god’s awful truth of it. Carmilla loves this girl so completely that even doing mundane activities, like the dishes, is a moment worth remembering when she does it with Laura.

*        *        *

Carmilla isn’t sure what she expects Laura’s father to be like but the muscle-y, nearly balding man she sees when she arrives at Laura’s for the holiday is _not_ it. He has a good 8 or 9 inches on Laura (so Carmilla assumes the height must have come from her Mother) and he’s just downright…big. She has to pause for a moment before greeting him because, well, he’s scary. Even for her.

Laura runs up to him first, allowing Carmilla to fall back for a moment and try to gather her nerves. He picks her up and swings her around, planting a large kiss on her head as she comes back to the ground. Laura’s smile is bright as she stares up at him, arm still around his back. It’s clear to Carmilla that there is a special bond between the two of them. One Carmilla would never understand. She ignores the pang in her heart and begins to walk over to where Laura and her Dad are standing, Laura having beckoned Carmilla over moments earlier. Her heart is racing and she swears her palms are sweaty. Laura’s father’s face had settled into a mild scowl and Carmilla nearly turned tail and ran in the opposite direction but one quick look at Laura’s gleefully expectant face propelled her forward. Her father sticks out his hand and says, “You must be Carmilla. Laura’s told me a lot about you.” And it’s all so very stereotypical this moment, she realizes. Carmilla swears she’s heard that line uttered over and over again by every parent in those terrible rom-com’s Laura makes them watch. It puts her at ease. She nods and grasps his outstretched hand.

“I am. Thank you for having me, sir.” She replies politely. They exchange a firm handshake and suddenly the scowl drops from his face and it’s replaced with a smile. One that looks eerily similar to Laura’s.

“Happy to have you, Carmilla. I’m glad to have anyone here who makes my Laura as happy as you seem to.” He says and Carmilla’s eyes flit back to Laura, who is looking down at her toes and blushing. She rams her shoulder into her father’s side, which only elicits a small laugh out of him.

“Dad, I thought we agreed we weren’t going to say that.” She says to him through her teeth. It makes Carmilla smile.

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” He hugs Laura’s shoulder tightly one more time. “Now I know you ladies must have luggage.” They both nod. “Thought so. I’ll go…” He pauses, “get started on dinner while you take it up to Laura’s room and unpack.” He finishes with a laugh. Laura is pouting and it makes Carmilla smile. He takes his arm off of Laura’s shoulder and turns back toward the house with a small wink just before the door closes. It’s only the two of them standing there, opposite each other, when Carmilla says,

“You’re a lot like him.” Laura nods, taking a few steps toward Carmilla.

“I know.” Is all she says and it’s strange, because Laura is never one for simple statements. Carmilla doesn’t have time to ponder it because Laura is walking toward her and she grabs her hand, interlacing their fingers. “C’mon. Unless you have some sort of leviational superpower I don’t know about, those bags aren’t going to carry themselves upstairs.” Carmilla only nods as they walk back to the end of the driveway to their bags.

*      *      *

Carmilla learns a lot of things about Laura during that summer. She learns that Laura is truly a terrible cook and is liable to burn down her house by simply boiling water. She learns that Sunday mornings, watching cartoons with her Dad, is when she’s most relaxed and comfortable. She learns that Laura hates to talk about her Mom and she avoids looking at the singular picture in their home of the three of them as a family.

And she learns just how profoundly _human_ Laura is.

It’s in the little things. Like her exclamation of pain when she burns her finger on the handle of a skillet. In all of their time together so far, Carmilla’s never thought about Laura’s humanity as a fleeting thing. But it was a reality she had to face. Laura was a human being. She was vulnerable and still had warm blood pumping through her veins. Something Carmilla hadn’t had in hundreds of years.

It was unsettling.

She tries her best not to think about it. She wants to be in every moment that she’s with Laura so she pushes the thought of Laura’s humanity as far out of her mind as possible.

*     *     *

Her father lets them share a room.

He says it’s because they already share a room at school and that Laura knows better than to do anything…inappropriate under his roof.

It’s surprising to Carmilla how loose Laura’s father seems to be. With everything that she’s heard about him, and all of the safety supplies he loaded her with, she expected him to be more tightly laced.

It takes Carmilla a month before she finds out why.

They’re lying in bed together, Carmilla’s arm thrown behind Laura’s shoulder. The ceiling fan is whizzing and neither of them are moving because if they even moved an inch, they would be covered in sweat. The air between them is heavy with silence when Laura finally breaks it by saying, “My Mom left when I was 7. Not like, _left_ left, but on a business trip. She was flying to some country in Africa and I remember saying goodbye to her at the airport like it was yesterday. My Dad told her to be safe and to call when she got there. She never called. And she never came back. So I guess she _left_ left. It was horrible. My Dad spent years trying to find her. He hired private investigators and even tried to bribe cops to find out whatever they could but no one ever came up with anything. I’ve never told him but I don’t think she was ever going to Africa. I think she was running away. The ticket was just an excuse to finally get out. That’s why I hate to talk about her because I think she’s a coward. I think she was never suited to be a Mother but all my Dad ever wanted was kids and she thought that was the only way she could keep him happy, which just ended up with _her_ being unhappy and leaving. That’s why my Dad gave me so much stuff to protect myself with. He thinks something out there harmed her and if he can equip me with everything I might ever need to fight off a predator, he can keep me safe when I’m not at home.” She finishes wearily and Carmilla doesn’t know what to say. She senses that Laura doesn’t need her to saying. She just wants her to know. So Carmilla kisses her on the top of her head and strokes her hair as she cries, just a little, for her lost Mother.

*     *     *

The summer is coming to an end and Carmilla truly can’t remember a summer where she’s enjoyed herself more. She’s ending the summer more in love with her girlfriend than ever before and if she can read the look in Laura’s eyes correctly, she feels the same.

She hasn’t said it yet, I love you, but Laura has. Laura knows the words don’t come easy to Carmilla and she told her that she’s fine with waiting until Carmilla’s ready to hear them in return. It weighs heavy on Carmilla’s heart because she knows that she feels it. She can tell by the way everything else fades when she looks at Laura. As if the whole world is blurred except for her. She wants to say it but every time she tries, her mouth goes dry and it feels like she’s forgotten every single word she’s ever learned. It’s exactly how she felt with Ell and that thought alone was terrifying enough.

They have two days before they’re due back and Silas and they’re having a picnic outside. Laura’s Dad is in the kitchen, preparing the sandwiches, and Laura and Carmilla are sitting on a red gingham blanket. Laura is reclined against the palms of her hands, her head thrown back so her face is directly in the sun and her hair is dangling down her back. She’s wearing a sundress that Carmilla bought her at a boutique for her birthday. Carmilla had been nervous about giving her the dress, gift-giving having never been her forte. She presented it to Laura shyly, with a disclaimer attached. “If you don’t like it, you can tell me. I have the receipt I can take it back and you can buy whatever you want. I just saw it and thought of you.” Laura, of course, adored it so her worries had been unfounded.

Carmilla can’t take her eyes off of Laura. She is….stunning. She’s beautiful and smart and knows exactly how Carmilla takes her hot chocolate. It then hits Carmilla that she can’t imagine a life without Laura anymore. That ever since they’ve been together, Carmilla’s world has been inexplicably lighter and brighter. Laura brought color into Carmilla’s world Carmilla couldn’t imagine going back to the darkness she knew before Laura invaded her world.

It comes out before Carmilla even knows what she’s saying. “I love you.” She blurts and Laura’s head pops up sharply. Her eyes are wide there is a small smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

“I-do you-are you-Really?” She stutters in response. Carmilla grins.

“Yes, really. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Laura practically leaps off of the ground and tackles Carmilla. She is pinned underneath Laura, who bends down to kiss her.

“What took you so long? I was starting to wonder if I needed to find a new sexy, vampire roommate to seduce.” Laura whispered from just above Carmilla’s lips.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, princess. Better late than never.” Carmilla quips back, bringing their mouths together for one more kiss.

They are still connected at the mouth when Laura’s father comes out of the back door with a plate of sandwiches. “I leave you two alone for ten minutes and this is what I come back to!” They break apart to see Laura’s dad just a few feet away from them, a smirk on his face. Carmilla smiles sheepishly while Laura just grins. “Untangle yourselves and come get a sandwich.” He says, holding out the plate. Laura rolls over and stands, walking over to her Dad.

“Hey, before we eat, can you take a picture of me and Carm? I really want to remember today.” Laura says and points to the disposable camera sitting on the ledge of the porch. He agrees and Laura practically skips back over to Carmilla and takes her hand to help her up. She wraps one arm around Carmilla’s torso and Carmilla throws one of her arms over Laura’s shoulder. Carmilla notices that the sun is hitting Laura perfectly and she leans down and kisses her on the temple before whispering in her ear, “I’ve never seen you look more gorgeous than you do right now.” Laura blushes and her grin grows. Carmilla pulls back only slightly, but is unable to take her eyes off of Laura. The camera flash goes off and still, Carmilla’s eyes are on Laura. Laura turns her toward hers and she smiles up at her. “C’mon nerd, let’s eat.” Carmilla nods and watches as Laura turns, it finally occurring to her that she would probably follow Laura anywhere.

* * *

That memory only hurts now.

In Carmilla’s mind, Laura is still that bright faced young girl, who even after everything they faced, could still remain optimistic and a beacon of light. Carmilla never understood how Laura never let the world jade her. It had taken less than a century of existing for the world to jade Carmilla.

She stares down at the gravestone and the open grave and she wonders, who is the woman that will be buried here? It’s impossible that she remained unchanged in the 70 years that had passed since they had last seen each other. Carmilla wonders if, finally, the world caught up to her. She hopes not. Laura deserved to keep that optimism her entire life. She deserved to be bright.

It pains Carmilla to think that she knows _nothing_ about the woman being buried today. She knows the Laura that existed from the ages 19 to 22. 3 irrelevant years out of a lifetime.

And it’s astounding for her to think about. She fell in love with Laura over the course of 3 years. 3 years is an insignificant blip on her time radar considering just how old she is. Any other 3 year sequence in her life she has essentially forgotten. But her 3 years with Laura meant _everything_.

She never forgot nor did she try to. Her years with Laura meant monumentally more than any of the years before or after that she spent alone.

The first few years after she let Laura go were, undoubtedly, the most difficult. She felt as though she was going insane, what with the amount of times she could have sworn she saw Laura’s face in a crowd. She swears she chased every girl with caramel colored hair that she passed in the streets until the girl turned around and the face wasn’t the one she was so desperately searching for.

After a few years, the urge to follow any and every one who looked like Laura faded and she started to make attempts to move on with her life.

She traveled to many different countries, all of which she and Laura had discussed visiting together. She tried her best not to imagine how Laura would react to all of the sights.

She bounced from country to country and bed to bed, seeking out familiar souls who also sought to fill a void in their heart.

She’d always thought that nothing would be lonelier than 70 years alone in a coffin but she was wrong.

Living the rest of her immortal life without Laura is the loneliest thing she can possibly imagine.

Carmilla folds the picture back into its tiny square and shoves it back into her pocket. Enough of the nostalgia.

She hears footsteps in the distance and scurries away from the open grave to find a hiding spot where she could still see the service. She finds one next to a shrub that offers full coverage but still provides a view.

People begin to settle into the chairs that had been set up around exposed underground. There is a priest and finally, into her line of sight, the pole bearers carrying the coffin of Laura Hollis.

It surprises her how much the sight of it alone affects her. It feels as if someone with brass knuckles has punched her in the stomach and knocked every breath of air out of her. She feels like she’s back in that underground coffin, struggling to breathe and on the verge of death at every moment. She has to look up at the clear sky just to ensure that she isn’t back there and this hasn’t all been a terrible nightmare.

The coffin is set into place and once every one is seated, the priest begins to speak, blessing the grave.

She can’t hear what he’s saying and she’s grateful for it. She knows she’d disagree with whatever religious bile he was spewing. She tries to imagine what she would say if she had the chance to speak.

She can’t picture it because she knows it would only sound foolish to everyone here who has known her longer and probably, far better.

It is at the moment that coffin is being lowered into the ground, that Carmilla wishes with all of her being she hadn’t made the choice to force Laura out of her life all those years ago. It finally hits her with the weight of an eternity of loneliness that _she made the wrong choice_.

Carmilla was no better off without Laura. She had spent 70 years loving Laura alone when she could have spent 70 years at her lover’s side, enjoying Laura’s human life _together_. Then at least Carmilla would have a lifetime of memories to survive on instead of 3 years of fading memories and a torn photograph.

Carmilla has to raise a first to her mouth to prevent herself from screaming out loud in anguished regret.

God, if she could just go back to the day the thought first entered her mind and get rid of it, everything would be different.

* * *

They’re graduating soon. Laura is practically buzzing with excitement at the prospect while Carmilla has her nose buried in a book with a furrowed brow.

This isn’t the first time Carmilla’s done this song and dance. She has quite a few degrees from Silas University and she imagines that nothing will really be different go round.

The only thing that makes this different is that she has Laura. A person that she _loves_.

She and Laura haven’t talked much about what they want to do about their relationship once they graduate. They’ve talked, of course, of grand adventures and places that Carmilla’s been that Laura would love but neither of them has brought up the big picture.

The fact that Carmilla has eternal life and Laura…..doesn’t. It’s the so called elephant in the room and it weighs heavy on Carmilla’s mind.

Laura will age. She will grow old and deteriorate and Carmilla won’t. Carmilla will always look 20. She’ll exist for longer than most human minds can even fathom. And for a majority of her life, she won’t have Laura.

The prospect of Laura’s mortality makes her stomach churn and her mouth to go dry. Perhaps it’s selfish of her but the thought of outliving Laura by centuries _terrifies_ her.

For once, Carmilla wishes she were human so she could live and die alongside Laura.

It’s a Saturday when she comes to a conclusion.

Laura is on her side of the room, reading and re-reading her psych textbook. Her brow is furrowed and she’s biting her lower lip as if gnawing on it would somehow cement the facts of the textbook into her brain. Carmilla is staring at her, as she often does, and she’s suddenly hit with a realization.

When you boiled down the facts, Carmilla was a centuries old monster.

Laura was a 20-something beauty who was filled to the brim with potential that someone like Carmilla would only hold her back from.

(And, she selfishly thinks, she’ll be destroyed when the day finally comes that Laura passes. She can’t bare the thought now. She can’t imagine how it will feel after decades together).

She walks over to Laura’s bed and sits down next to her. Laura looks up, raising an inquiring eyebrow. She opens her mouth to speak but Carmilla cuts her off sharply. “After graduation, we need break up.” She says, peeking up at Laura out of the corner of her eye. The girls face has lost all traces of color. She closes her book and looks to Carmilla.

“You’re not serious.” She asks. There’s a crack in her voice that makes Carmilla flinch. Carmilla nods.

“Serious as a heart attack.” She turns to her. “Listen. I’m a vampire.”

“Yes! I know that. I’ve known that for two years. How is it an issue now?” Laura interrupts, her voice raising. Laura is distraught now. Her foot is shaking and when she speaks, her hands are gesturing wildly.

“It’s an issue now because things are different outside of Silas. There’s a normal world out there that would never understand this. How someone like you could love someone like me. And let’s face it. You’re going to get old, Laura. I’m not. Ever. Being with more for your entire human life is only going to hold you back. If you stay with me, you’re never going to get the white picket fence and the kids and the fucking mini-van. You’re never going to get stability. And you deserve that.” Carmilla finishes and she looks at Laura, eyes begging her to understand. Laura shakes her head.

“No. I’m not just going to accept this. I _love_ you. I don’t just go around saying that to people. When I said I love you, Carm, I meant _forever_. Until my dying day. So I’m not just going to let you decide that we have to break up.” Laura’s eyes are filling with tears and her voice is cracking and there’s part of Carmilla that just wants to hold her in her arms and say that they’ll talk about it later. But putting off the inevitable doesn’t make it go away.

“I’m sorry, Laura. This is how it has to be. Once we graduate, I’m leaving. Without you. And try as you might, you won’t be able to find me. So it’s better we cut ties now and make this amicable.” Carmilla says with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t say what she wants to say and that is _I have to do this. I have to leave you now because if I don’t, you’re going to leave me. Eventually. Whether by choice or in death. And I can’t bear the thought of watching you leave me._

Laura is full on crying now and it breaks Carmilla’s heart to know that she’s the reason for it. Carmilla stands and walks over to her side of the room they share and gathers her books. “I’m going to the library. We’ll finish this later when you’ve mopped up the puddle you’re bound to make.” Carmilla declared coldly. In that instant, Carmilla was brought back to when they first met, and the barbs the two would exchange. She hates herself for doing it but she figures it’ll be easier for Laura to let her go if she hates her.

Carmilla is a few steps away from the door when Laura’s shaky voice stops in her in her tracks.

“You’re a coward, Carmilla Karnstein. Just like my Mother. You’re running away! You’re leaving because things are going to get tough. I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you. I’m not giving up just because you’re ready to.” Laura vowed, her voice low and only just above a whisper. Carmilla closes her eyes and shakes her head.

She walks out without responding.

She doesn’t return until three days later.

She finds Laura curled up in a ball underneath her covers, the yellow pillow between her arms. She sits on the bed next to the sleeping lump. Laura jumps out from under the covers and as soon as she sees who disturbed her, she throws her arms around Carmilla’s neck.

“You’re back.” She whispers into Carmilla’s hair. Carmilla replies only with a grunt of acknowledgement. “I was so scared, I thought maybe your Mum had come back from the fiery depths of hell and taken you. Where did you go?” Laura asks, finally pulling away. Carmilla shrugs.

“You know, I meant everything I said that night. I want to break up and I want for you to stop fighting for me.” She ignores Laura’s question and it’s clear that Laura is taken aback by the blunt approach. Carmilla can tell that Laura is about to say something but she cuts her off abruptly. “I won’t be able to handle it when you die. Because you will. Every human does. That’s simple fact. But I don’t want to watch you die. Because I know that the older you get, the more tempted I’ll be to turn you so we can run off into the darkness for the rest of eternity.” Carmilla pauses and turns to look at Laura to take in her reaction. Her lips are open just slightly and her eyes are wide but not in fear. Mostly in fascination. “I can’t do that to you. Eternal life is just as much a curse as it is a blessing and it’s unnatural. People ought to live their scheduled 100 years or less and then disappear. That’s the natural way of it and how it should be. So I would never turn you, even if you asked. So you’re going to die. And I’m terrified. I know that if I let you go now, I’ll be able to move on. So will you. If I wait until you’re dead to try and move forward, I’ll never be able to. I’ll be stuck, in love with you for the rest of my eternal life and as much as I care about you, that sounds incredibly painful.” She finishes to the sound of Laura whimpering. Her head is down and buried in her hands.

“I love you so much, Carmilla. I’m fairly confident that I won’t ever be able to move on from you. You’re the love of my life. My human life that I only get one of. I want to spend every last day of it with you. Can’t that be enough?” Laura practically begs. Carmilla shakes her head.

“No. It can’t. I’m sorry Laura, but I can’t do it.” Carmilla stands up from the bed and walks over to her own, depositing her things on the bed. She wants to leave again but once more, Laura stops her.

“C-can we look at the stars together one more time?” She asks timidly and Carmilla doesn’t have the heart to say no.

They lay together underneath the stars for one last night, both of them unspokenly agreeing to forget about the impending breakup and enjoy the night for what it is. Two people in love gazing up at at the stars.

* * *

The service is over and the attendees have dispersed. Cemetery workers come by and fill the grave completely and after they leave, Carmilla deems it safe to exit her hiding spot.

She deposits the flowers she’s been holding all afternoon on top of the grave. It’s dark out and the night is clear so Carmilla can see all of the stars. She looks up to them, hoping one of them will give her strength, before she looks back down at the freshly covered grave. She bites down on her lip, crouching down so she’s at eyelevel with the headstone.

“I don’t know why I came. It’s been so long and you probably moved forward with your life without even a second thought of me. But I had to. I…I’m sorry, Laura. You were right, that day I told you I wanted to break up. I am a coward. I was so scared of how broken I would be when you died, I didn’t give either of us a chance to _live_. I’ve spent the past 70 years going from country to country, doing exactly what I did before I met you but I could never enjoy myself. Without you there to see everything with me, it all seemed pointless.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath to keep the tears at bay.

“I would have done it all with you.” She continues, “The house, the kids, the minivan, and the white picket fence. All of it. And I would have been over the moon about it. Yeah, some explaining to the kids would have been necessary but it would have been worth it to go through life with you. If I could turn back time, I would never have broken up with you. I would have let you fight for me. And I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry I never fought for you.” She finishes, the tears escaping her eyes despite her best efforts. She gently kisses the tips of her fingers and touches them to the headstone. She stands up and whispers into the air, “I love you today. I loved you yesterday. I’ll love you tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” Two tears slip down her cheeks and land on the headstone. She leaves them there.

She walks out of the cemetery, her heart heavier than ever before. She looks up the dark night sky one more time and she swears there is one star that looks over her and gleams brighter than the rest.


End file.
